


candlelit universe

by hannwrites



Series: FE3H Catholic School AU [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, High School Teacher AU, M!Byleth - Freeform, M/M, Unresolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 18:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21085568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannwrites/pseuds/hannwrites
Summary: Byleth and Seteth share a moment in the school's chapel, on the night of the faculty Christmas party.-Warning: this is very short and unresolved!!This is a very short one shot for a much larger fic that I'd like to eventually write but don't know if I'll ever get around to, so here's this at the very least. I had to get this scene out of my brain because knowing me I'll never write the whole damn thing lmfao





	candlelit universe

As he gently loaded Manuela into the back of the cab, paying her fare in advance and thanking the driver for his patience, Byleth frowned. The staff Christmas party wasn’t a disaster, but he wouldn’t say it had been a perfect evening thus far. Everything started off pleasantly, wonderfully even. He had been to a few staff parties in the past, if he happened to land a substitute position around certain holidays. None of them compared to the splendor, and apparently endless budget, of Garreg Mach Private School. There had been live music, beautiful decorations, delicious catering. The staff parties he had attended were always potlucks, and though the atmosphere was always festive, you could never escape the fact that you were standing in a dingy and poorly funded teacher’s lounge, listening to the same fifteen Christmas songs on repeat off somebody’s iPod. At Garreg Mach, every inch of the of the old and majestic building was done up with such opulence that he could have been convinced he was stepping into the halls of a castle. Looking around, only his cheap and ill-fitting suit jacket had been present to remind him that this was a staff Christmas party and not an extravagant royal ball. 

Despite Byleth’s distaste for crowds and small talk, he had been having fun. Then Manuela spiked her punch, got into a nasty and half-whisper argument with Hanneman, practically fell all over one of the school’s board members, and threw up into a potted poinsettia near the buffet table. Hanneman had warily offered to walk her out but after much protesting on Manuela’s part, the task was passed off to Byleth, who was now watching a taxi cab drive off with a passed-out drama teacher slewn across its back seat. 

Byleth felt himself crumple a little bit. The highlight of the evening was supposed to be the gift exchange, which had been kicking off just as Manuela was reaching her sloppiest. He had surely missed it by now. Despite himself, he had particularly been looking forward to that portion of the evening. Byleth had been assigned as Vice Principal Seteth’s Secret Santa, and after much trial and tribulation, as well as a little help, he really thought he had picked out the perfect gift. Help, in this scenario, took the form of Flayn dragging him to every store in the mall and trying unabashedly to convince Byleth to buy things that were wildly outside of his budget and the maximum value that had been set for the gift exchange. Eventually, with some effort, they had settled on what Flayn insisted was the “perfect gift for dad”. It was a beautifully crafted, leatherbound journal, which he had picked out with Seteth’s love for writing in mind. Byleth had spent far too long the night before wrapping and rewrapping it, settling for nothing less than perfection. 

It would be a lie to say that the only reason for the meticulous choosing and preparing of a Secret Santa gift was due to Byleth’s desire to please his boss, who early on in the semester had proven to be difficult to impress. That may have been part of it. However the more pressing impulse, which he could not deny, was a basic and nearly desperate desire to be liked and approved of. Not as a colleague, but as a person. As a man. What had started a silly crush had developed into stolen glances across the staff lounge when the other man wasn’t looking, to a deep and painful yearning that Byleth could not free himself from. All of this yearning he harnessed and poured into a small gift-wrapped journal, tucked into the inner pocket of his jacket. And now he had almost certainly missed the gift exchange. Hoping his fears were misplaced, he hurried back to the party.

He made his way back through the halls and the beautifully adorned atrium to the lounge, where the gift exchange had indeed come to a close. Searching through the faculty and board members for a telling mop of forest green hair, he felt a little sting in his heart. Nowhere to be seen. Sidling up to Catherine, he casually inquired about Seteth.

“Gone home, I think,” She said, “Why, kiddo? What’s up?”

“Oh I.. I just hadn’t given him his gift. I was his Secret Santa.”

“Aw that sucks,” she commiserate. “I don’t think Seteth is the type to be too put out over something like that though. I’m sure you can just give it to him in January.”

Byleth agreed halfheartedly before wishing her a Merry Christmas and retreating from the lounge, stepping back into the atrium. He sat rather pathetically by the large and dazzling Christmas tree for a moment, before standing suddenly with the thought of driving to Seteth’s house to give him the journal there. No that was stupid, he realized, sitting back down. Sighing deeply, he stood up again and began a slow pace through the hallways of the school. Walking and thinking went well together.

As he strayed from the designated party area, the festive aura faded and Garreg Mach became a school once again, rather than a splendid palace on the night of a ball; the transformation was aided by the diminishing of his own excitement. But the dark hallways and empty classrooms gifted Byleth with a peaceful solitude and reprieve from the crowded gathering that he had forgotten he needed in the bustle of the evening. He was thankful for it. The dark halls, which may have been frightening for some, appeared as a beautiful sanctum to Byleth now. 

The students liked to spread rumours about the school after hours. Many believed it was haunted. Despite his somber mood ams disappointment with the evening’s turn, Byleth laughed at the thought of it. His students never failed to amaze him with the amount of secrets and myths they could fabricate about one old building. It seemed every week there was something new they were teaching him. Just earlier today, on the last day of class before winter break, Hilda had interrupted him mid-lesson to solemnly inform him that any couple that kissed in the chapel on the day before a break would be blessed with a lifetime of happiness. Byleth had nodded and said “that’s nice, Hilda, thank you” and continued on with his World Religions lecture, but the memory came back to him now as his walk through the halls brought him nearer to the chapel itself. He wondered how many students had skipped class today to steal kisses in front of the altar and make exaggerated promises to each other.

Approaching the large double doors of the chapel Byleth saw that one was propped open slightly, with the telltale, flickering light of candles poring through the crack. Peering through the doorway, he felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight within. Seated in the first pew, with his head bowed slightly, was a man whose green hair glinted in the candlelight.

“Seteth,” Byleth called out, his voice hushed. Pushing the door open wider, he stepped through. Inside, the chapel was a display of magnificence, with a fully lit altar of candles which filled the room with a soft and romantic glow.

At his entrance, Byleth saw Seteth startle slightly. Recovering quickly he turned to see who was approaching and visibly relaxed at the sight of Byleth.

“Ah, Byleth,” He slid over slightly on the pew as Byleth approached, “Take a seat. I was just enjoying a moment away from the festivities.”

“I can leave if you’d rather be alone,” Byleth offered

To his relief Seteth shook his head, “No, stay. I get the feeling you were looking for some quiet as well. We can enjoy a moment of serenity together.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, Byleth urged himself to keep his eyes forward rather than succumb to the desire to stare at the man next to him, to observe the way the candles cast shadows across his face and lit up his eyes. “Do you know the myth the students like to tell about the chapel,” he broke the silence to ask, eye glued forward.

He could hear the arched eyebrow in Seteth’s voice as he responded, “No? What myth is that?”

“Oh it’s nothing, nevermind,” What a stupid thing to ask. He scrambled to change the subject for a second before remembering the source of his sorrow just ten minutes earlier, “Uh, actually, I thought you had gone home already. I thought maybe I had missed you while I was helping Manuela to her taxi.”

“You probably would have seen me leaving, if that were the case, since you were out in the parking lot,” Seteth reasoned. 

“Right.” They sat in silence again, for a moment. The awkwardness of his own feelings weighed on Byleth, made him feel clumsy in a way he never had before. “Because- Well the reason I was hoping to catch you before you left is because I have your thing. Uh, your gift… I mean, I’m your Secret Santa.”

He turned to face Seteth finally who was looking back at him. An amused smile played at the corners of his mouth, as soft as the candlelight. “Is that so?”

Byleth reached into his suit jacket and extracted the gift. His flawless wrapping was slightly tarnished around the corners after a night of being shoved into a pocket, and he handed it over with some embarrassment over it’s imperfection. He hoped his face didn’t reflect his anxiousness, “You don’t have to open it now. Unless you want to, of course. Here.”

Seteth took it wordlessly, pausing for a moment before tearing away one corner to reveal the journal.

“You mentioned you like to write,” Byleth started as he watched Seteth peel back the rest of the wrapping, “so I thought this could be of use to you…” He trailed off, mesmerized by Seteth’s reaction. Byleth had never seen him so gentle, so quiet. He turned the journal over in his hands a few times, inspecting the stitchwork and feeling the heft of it in his hands. All the while the same soft and intoxicating smile graced his mouth. Byleth was transfixed.

Finally Seteth raised his eyes to meet Byleth’s, directing that smile at him, “This is beautiful, Byleth.” His voice fell just above a whisper and for a moment it was as if it were just the two of them in the world. “Thank you for this, truly.”

Perhaps he was drunk off of that smile, or lightheaded from the rush of being praised, or maybe the gentle pressure of Setheth’s knee touching his finally drove him over the edge. Byleth acted without thinking, possessed by an impulse that had been haunting him for months. He reached out a hand, snaking his fingers to the back of Seteth’s neck, and pulled him forward. Their lips met roughly at first and then softly as he thought he felt Seteth relax against him. It only lasted a second but for that second Byleth felt he had entered his own candlelit universe, where he could feel things unabashedly, where he didn’t feel broken or wrong. 

But as quickly as it came over him, the haze began to clear from his mind and the reality of his actions struck Byleth. He pulled back violently. There was no doubt now that all his emotions were painted clearly on his face, and he could feel the heat of his embarrassment and shame climbing up his neck and across his cheeks. Seteth simply stared at him, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide. An expression of shock and vulnerability that Byleth had never seen him wearing before. It was an expression Byleth didn’t know how to read; what was he thinking? Was he disgusted? Angry? Seteth raised his hand to touch his own lips, then lowered his eyes to stare at his fingers, saying nothing. 

A second passed, and then two. Byleth’s brain caught up with him, finally, and in a flash of panic he shot from his seat on the pew and began to back away, Seteth’s eyes following him “I- Uh-” He nearly tripped over himself as he rounded the pew, reversing through the rows, “Have a nice Christmas.” With that Byleth turned on his heels, hurrying undignified out of the chapel. He thought he might have heard Seteth say his name as he passed through the doors but by the time his feet touched the hallway floor he was running. 

Byleth ran past empty classrooms and offices, through the atrium where the party attendees were beginning to file out of the building and to their cars. He ignored Rhea calling after him as he rushed by, and Alois’ questioning look, refusing to stop until he was sitting in his car. He sat for a moment, his breathing heavy and uneven. Once again he found himself in solitude, but this time is was crushing him. Hitting the steering wheel once in frustration, he felt himself begin to shake, letting out whispered curses. Byleth steadied himself just enough to drive, making it home only to collapse in the threshold of his apartment, back sliding down the wall. Burying his head in his hands, he cried.


End file.
